Ashes
by IceCream386
Summary: Thomas isn't the same anymore...
1. Prologue

**Ashes**

He's not the same anymore. He doesn't laugh at her jokes, and he doesn't make any jokes of his own either. He takes himself much more seriously now. He doesn't even try to find pleasure or enjoyment in anything now. Not that he ever really did, but it's even worse now.

He doesn't seem angry either. He just seems tired and…sad really. He just sits there, slumped, and smokes his cigarettes silently. That's the other thing. His posture has changed. He slouches now; he used to stand up straight.

His attitude has changed too. He just gets on with his job silently. There's no back-chat. Gone are the snide responses and cruel put-downs that they both used to laugh at, albeit bitterly. Bitter laughter was better than no laughter at all. Now he never laughs, never smiles, barely even responds.

He'll sit there sometimes, and his eyes will almost glaze over. Then he'll jump at the slightest sound; but instead of shouting angrily, like he used to do when someone gave him a fright, he'll just slump back down again when he discovers the source of the noise.

She's seen shell-shock before. She remembers how her brother would jump at even the slightest sound, springing up as if ready for action. She saw too, how he would shake with fear, seemingly in a different place, a different world, from the one he was actually in.

But this…this seems different somehow. She can't put her finger on it, but he doesn't really seem to be shell-shocked, not that she can see anyway. He seems…she's not sure. She wonders if she should ask him. Maybe he'd tell her. Or maybe he wouldn't even know himself.

It seems like it might be worth a try, she thinks, as she approaches him in the courtyard, holding a cigarette. He's just finished his last one, so she supposes he'd like another.

It's bitingly cold outside and she shivers. She's surprised he's managed to stand out here as long as he has. He hears her footsteps and looks up to see who's there. Seeing her, he turns back around again.

"Thought you could do with this," she says, handing it to him.

"Thanks," he mumbles. He takes it, lights it, and inhales from it deeply. Then he blows out a big cloud of smoke. They sit there for a few minutes in silence, before she speaks.

"How've you been then?"

"Same as always."

"No you haven't."

He looks at her blankly. "What d' you mean?

"You haven't been yourself lately. Not since you came back anyway."

"Haven't been myself?" To her surprise he laughs. It's the first time she's heard him laugh since he came back, and it sounds strange to her ears. "What were you expecting?" His tone isn't mocking, not per se, but it sounds like he thinks he's talking to a young child who doesn't understand how the world works and is yet to learn.

"I wasn't expecting nothing. I'm just saying."

"Right." He stands, squaring his shoulders, and looks straight at her. "Saying what exactly?" There's almost the hint of a challenge in his voice, she thinks, but she can't be sure.

"That you aren't the same as you was."

"Neither are you." He throws the cigarette to the ground and stamps it out. Then he turns to go inside. "Thanks… for the cigarette." His back is still turned to her as he says this, and without another word, he makes his way inside.

"You're welcome," she mutters, and then she throws her cigarette to the ground too, stamping it with her foot, and watches as the light from the tip dies and all that remain are the ashes.

**xxx**

**AN: **_If you have the time,_ p_lease leave me a review to let me know what you think. I only ask that you are not overly harsh in your criticism. Thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes._

**AN: **_This chapter is a time skip to the post-war period. It also contains AU situations, as Bates has not been jailed and is still the valet. Thomas, therefore, is still a footman._

**Warning: **_This chapter uses information from spoilers for Series 3. It may contain (very mild) spoilers. _

**xxx**

_1918_

Downton Abbey welcomes a new member of staff. After the war, such extravagances as footmen are becoming necessities again and, of course, they need someone to replace William. He arrives with a small bag of belongings and is standing, looking rather lost and a little forlorn, in the hall. Anna, as usual, is the most inviting.

"It's lovely to meet you," she says warmly. He replies with similar politeness and warmth, and he is led into the servants' hall where he is introduced to the other servants.

He is good-looking, _very _good-looking, but there is something about his appearance that Sarah takes an instant dislike too. His smile is sweet, shy and uncertain. He has fine cheekbones and facial structure, and his dark eyes shine like polished silverware. But O'Brien doesn't think she likes him much.

He looks a little like her brother. He was a handsome young man. It was such a waster that he'd had to go like he did. She still missed him every day, and Jimmy wasn't a pleasant reminder of that deeply buried fact.

Thomas usually sneers at the new servants, but he doesn't sneer at Jimmy, and Sarah finds herself feeling a sharp stab of jealousy. She checks herself; she knows she's being completely foolish and sentimental.

Carson assigns Thomas the task of showing Jimmy around. Of course, the two of them will be sharing a room (and won't that be cozy?). She sees them travelling down the corridor, and wonders what Thomas thinks of the Abbey's newest member of staff.

In the evening, she goes out to the courtyard to have a smoke. Long gone are the days when Thomas and she would have done this together. She smiles to herself, almost sadly, and remembers the different schemes and plans they would manage to concoct with each other. She misses those times; they seem like centuries ago.

She sees Thomas standing inhaling a cigarette but, unlike the other times she has seen him, he's not alone. Jimmy has joined him and is chattering away to him. Thomas is quiet, but she can't tell if this is because he isn't really paying attention or if it's because he is listening so intently. She feels herself grow angry at the sight and, once again, has to check herself. What's the matter with her?

She doesn't remain there for long. She tells herself this is because it's cold and dreary, but she knows in her heart why she really left. It isn't as though she would have minded damp and cold if Thomas had been with her, keeping her company.

She is brushing her ladyship's hair and helping her prepare for the night when Cora speaks.

"How are you, O'Brien? Have you been well?"

"Nothin' to complain about m'lady," she says solemnly.

Cora laughs at this; a beautiful, magic sound. "Well, I'm not asking you to complain." She says it almost jokingly, but her eyes are soft. She's giving Sarah that intense gaze she sometimes does, which Sarah can't quite understand. "How _have _you been, O'Brien – really?"

It's so hard to explain what she's thinking; Cora simultaneously makes it easier _and _harder to do so. She isn't sure what to say, so she settles for a partially honest account. "Same as usual, m'lady. Though I've been wantin' some company lately." She says the last sentence almost sullenly.

Cora seems to understand. At any rate, she doesn't push for further response. Instead, she moves on to a lighter topic. It's something about a gown she wants to be made for her. O'Brien doesn't really listen; she's just happy to hear her voice.

When night comes, it's a relief. She's glad of the opportunity to lay her head down and rest, if only for a few short hours. Sleep doesn't come as easily as it should, considering how weary she is, but she's used to that now. She hasn't a good night's sleep in a long time.

The next morning consists of the same usual struggle and clatter of dishes as everyone rushes to be ready in time for the chores of the day. O'Brien's porridge is cold, and seems to taste even more bland than usual. She's not really concentrating on eating it anyway; she's watching Thomas.

Thomas looks well-rested and his appetite seems better than usual. She notices a sparkle in his eyes; and she's glad to see it there, regardless of the knowledge that she hasn't been the cause of it. His cheeks are brighter too. She realizes, for the first time, (she doesn't know why she's never noticed it before) that he's rather handsome.

He glances at her, between taking a mouthful of porridge, and she realizes she's been staring at him. She looks away, unable to maintain eye contact. When she looks up again, she sees Thomas is frowning at her. He doesn't look angry; he just looks puzzled.

Cora's bell rings, and she rises from her chair without giving Thomas another look. Even so, she can feel his eyes watching her as she leaves the room.

**xxx**

_Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please leave me a review to let me know what you think. I'd also like advice on the plot. Do you like where the story is going? What would you like to see happen? I welcome all suggestions. :)_


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes._

**AN: **_This chapter is a time skip to the post-war period. It also contains AU situations, as Bates has not been jailed and is still the valet. Thomas, therefore, is still a footman._

**Warning: **_This chapter uses information from spoilers for Series 3. It may contain (very mild) spoilers. _

**Thomas' POV**

Jimmy has been trying to catch his eye all morning. Of this, Thomas is almost certain. He doesn't mind Jimmy so much as some of the other staff. He seems a like a fast learner, and he seems to at least possess some wit. Something in the back of Thomas' mind tells him that he's being so lenient because Jimmy is handsome - _very _handsome. Thomas silences the voice. As well he should; it's a bloody nuisance.

Jimmy is sitting polishing cutlery when Thomas happens upon him later. He stands back for a moment, without disturbing him, and watches him. He watches his hands as they gently and carefully polish a fork. Maybe that's not all his hands would be good for. Thomas starts breathing faster.

It isn't warm, but the sun is out. Thomas gazes as it caresses Jimmy's hair and forehead. It's a beautiful sight. Thomas could go and talk to him now, but he doesn't want to; he just wants to sit and stare him. It's bad manners to stare, but then Thomas has never exactly been known for his politeness.

Thomas sinks down to sit on the step. He's still mesmerized by Jimmy's presence, and he feels almost sleepy. The sun shines directly on his face, just from where he's sitting. He can hardly see Jimmy now because, from his vantage point, the sun is in his eyes. He closes them and feels a gentle breeze against his skin...

He doesn't even realise he's fallen asleep until he is woken by someone shaking his shoulder. He starts and opens his eyes to see Jimmy looking down at him, his eyes dancing and a smile forming on his lips.

"Sorry to wake you," he says unapologetically. "I thought it'd be better if I did it rather than someone else." He's noticeably smirking now.

Thomas is slightly dazed, which probably accounts for his lack of response up until now. "You ought t' remember I'm your superior," he says harshly. He gets to his feet. "I've got proper work t' do," he growls and stalks away, annoyed with himself more than with Jimmy.

He's furious at being caught out like that. It makes him look weak and unprofessional. He doesn't like being caught off guard, without anything to say for himself. That same voice in the back of his head tells him that he wouldn't have been so bothered if it hadn't been Jimmy who'd seen him. He silences it again.

The latter part of the day consists in him sullenly trying to avoid work whenever possible. What is he even doing here? He's still only a footman after all this time. Pathetic. He should have been promoted by now. He deserves to be valet more than that self-righteous bastard.

At dinner, he sits beside Jimmy. He doesn't speak to him; he doesn't look at him. This is partly because he's still angry about what happened in the afternoon and partly because he has no idea what they would talk about. He feels embarrassed, almost.

When he briefly glances at him, he sees Jimmy is looking at him curiously. His grey eyes are regarding him with puzzlement. It makes Thomas confused himself.

Later, when everyone else is finally going to bed, he sees Daisy scuttling about in the kitchen. She's hurrying about preparing something or other. He doesn't notice Mrs. Patmore anywhere, but he knows that she's handed more duties over to Daisy, so maybe she doesn't feel the need to supervise.

Her head is hanging, and she doesn't look up when he comes in. He doesn't bother her, but he doesn't want to sleep. He should be exhausted after all the work he's done, but he isn't. He feels more awake than he's felt in a long time.

**xxx**

_Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please leave me a review to let me know what you think. Do you like where I'm taking this story? If you have any ideas or suggestions for the plot/storyline/character development, then please let me know. :)_


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes._

**Warning: **_This story uses information from spoilers for Series 3. It may contain (very mild) spoilers. _

**Thomas' POV**

Thomas dreams of Jimmy that night. He pictures Jimmy's grey eyes fixing his with a burning intensity, with longing and need. He dreams of Jimmy's hands stroking his hair, of his fingers grazing his lips and cheeks. He envisages Jimmy pressing his soft lips to his own and of Jimmy holding him close. He feels the warmth of Jimmy's body pressed against his own…

And then he wakes up. He's left wondering why all his most pleasant experiences surrounding Jimmy end with him waking up, disgruntled. When the sleep is sufficiently out of his eyes for him to open them properly, he glances over at Jimmy's bed and sees him lying there, in his crumpled sheets, still slumbering peacefully. He has an urge to go over and sit on his bed and pet his head, but he doesn't. He rises and makes his way to breakfast.

When he opens the door, he finds no one else there – not even Daisy. There's an eerie and empty feeling to the room at this time and he shivers. He realises that he's just woken up terribly early, and he decides to go back to bed.

Taking his shoes off and climbing in to bed, he can hear Jimmy turn and sigh in his sleep. His breath is so soft that Thomas couldn't hear if he weren't listening for it. Lying down, he ponders how he's supposed to go to sleep again. Nothing he can think of makes him feel particularly calm or peaceful. Anything which comes to mind merely makes him angry.

It occurs to him to be embarrassed about what he's been dreaming about. He almost scared of feeling like this, even though he has many times before. It puts him in such a fragile position. He knows this is one of his greatest weaknesses, but he can't help himself. One day, it'll land him serious trouble.

Somehow, he must have managed to drift off because when he awakens, it is to the usual hustle and bustle of early mornings. Mrs. Patmore seems to be in a rather foul mood today, Thomas notes. Daisy is scurrying about like a squirrel, busying herself with various pots and pans.

He takes his seat beside Jimmy, who is sitting reading a newspaper intently. His forehead is pulled into a slight frown, as though he is concentrating hard. He doesn't even tear his eyes away from it for a second when Thomas sits beside him.

When a slight level of calm has descended on the kitchen, Thomas digs his spoon into his porridge. It looks rather unappealing today. He really isn't hungry, which is strange considering how famished he felt yesterday. Yesterday, he could have eaten a horse; today, he can't even take a spoonful of porridge.

When the dishes are cleared away the Countess's bell rings. Sarah rises immediately and goes to attend to her. She looks at Thomas for a moment, an expression of sadness visible on her face. These days, Thomas doesn't want to look at her; he almost avoids her.

Mr. Bates sets to work polishing Lord Grantham's shoes. Thomas makes sure to send him a glower. Mr. Bates obviously notices, but he just continues polishing, smiling faintly. The smile makes Thomas hate him even more. He feels sure the bastard is laughing at him, but he doesn't have much time to dwell on it because Jimmy and he have work to do.

Clearing away breakfast dishes is an art form when you're doing it as a footman. Carson's standards are annoyingly high, and he won't accept anything below par. At least he has Jimmy to keep him company – if that's actually a good thing.

"Don't like Bate; do ya?" says Jimmy casually, while they are ridding the table of all its plates and dishes.

Thomas is both annoyed and impressed by Jimmy's perceptiveness. "Wha' if I don't?" he replies coldly.

"Nothin'. I was only wonderin'," says Jimmy, his voice going a little high. Maybe he thinks Thomas' words are meant as an accusation. He bites his lip and, for some strange reason, Thomas finds his mouth is watering. He takes in Jimmy's perfectly formed cupid's bow, his soft lips…

It's only when he notices Jimmy looking at him strangely that he becomes aware that he's been staring. He feels like hitting himself.

"Wha's the matter?" Jimmy asks, clearly perturbed. "Wha' is is?"

"Nothin'," Thomas mutters, ashamed of his daydreaming.

"It don't matter anyhow," says Jimmy.

"No, it don't," Thomas agrees. They've cleared away all the dishes. "We shoul' get on with the polishin' now," he adds.

Polishing cutlery is no easy task when you're sitting opposite someone who makes your hands shake. Thomas never normally finds it this hard.

Jimmy's hands are slender and dexterous, and they work quickly, with grace and ease. He can be rather quiet when he wants to be, and they finish the work in silence. However, when Thomas goes out to the courtyard for a cigarette, Jimmy joins him without asking. Thomas would never say, but he doesn't really mind. Jimmy is good company.

Once outside, he hears the click of hard concrete under his shoes. It's raining outside, and they sky doesn't look very promising. Looking across the yard, he sees Sarah standing by herself. She looks a little forlorn, all by herself.

Jimmy speaks first. "Why _don't _ya' like the valet?" he asks.

He blurts out his answer without stopping to think."He's most self-righteous bastard as ever walked the earth; that's why," he grunts.

"He does seem rather please wi' himself and all," Jimmy concedes.

"You don't like him either," Thomas says.

"Na. What's the matter wi' him?" Jimmy says, the pitch of his voice rising dramatically to express his indignation.

"You're right not ta," Thomas says.

Inwardly, he sighs with relief. It's nice to have someone his side for a change. That bloody bastard has enough high and mighty followers. But Jimmy doesn't seem like a follower; he seems like a leader. And as he's standing there, smoking with Jimmy, he knows that wherever Jimmy leads, he'll follow.

**xxx**

_So, what do you think? Do you like what I've done so far? Do you have any ideas for where this story should go from here? Please leave me a review to let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! xxx_


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